


There's A Light In The Suffering

by Mackem



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-03-31
Packaged: 2019-12-29 21:49:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18302555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mackem/pseuds/Mackem
Summary: “I’m sure I can manage,” Aloth demurs, but it does not stop Edér from moving to his side and taking his arm as he levers himself to his feet. His breath catches as strong hands wrap around his elbow and forearm, supporting him effortlessly as he approaches the cloak. He hesitates before moving to lie down, and his voice is reedy when he tells Edér, “The, um, the wound is – is on my upper thigh.”“You need a hand getting your trousers down?” Edér offers immediately, and Aloth chokes.“No!” he protests, as his ears steadily turn red and Iselmyr battles hard to take control of his mouth. “That was not my meaning! I, I merely meant that I should like some privacy while I undress!”“Well, sure, whatever you need,” Edér says amiably, as though he hasn’t given Aloth’s spiralling brain enough fodder to torture him with for years. He helps Aloth down to balance on his knees, then turns away once he’s certain he’s not about to keel over. “Let me know when you’re ready for me.”





	There's A Light In The Suffering

**Author's Note:**

> It's probably pretty telling that my favourite ship in Pillars of Eternity is the two Matt characters, but I'm certainly not going to analyse it.
> 
> As ever, I've been using this fic to torture my friend Ruth, and it wouldn't exist without her cheerleading me along. All characters portrayed in here are not owned by me, but I'm very happy to play with them. Any mistakes in here are all my own. Where are they on the map? What is this nameless quest they are on? I certainly don't know, and hopefully, it doesn't matter!
> 
> Title is from "Find What You're Looking For" by Flint Eastwood.

They have been walking for hours.

 

Normally, Aloth would not mind. He is hardly unused to the realities of life with the Watcher, after all, who seems to spend half her life trudging from one end of the world to the other, all to merely receive a request to return from whence she came to carry out some thankless task. Aloth long ago invested in a pair of sturdy, sensible boots.

 

But today, as they draw to a halt before the looming presence of a mountain, at the top of which lies their destination, Aloth internally curses his luck.

 

He brings up the tail of their group by twenty feet or so, and forces himself to hurry when he realises his companions have drawn to a halt before him. His leg protests with sharp stab of pain, suddenly lancing red-hot along the length of his thigh, but he draws alongside his companions with what he hopes is barely a wince.

 

Edér, ever watching when his attention would be most inconvenient, frowns at him as he approaches. “You feelin’ all right?” he asks, his voice low enough that only Aloth hears it as he draws close to him.

 

“Quite,” says Aloth, and it can only be the constant, dull throb of pain along his nerves that leave his tone short and clipped. He sighs through his nose as Edér’s eyebrows arch suspiciously, aware that all he has done is pique the Dyrwoodian’s interest.

 

Is that so?” Edér asks, blue eyes narrowed as they dart over Aloth’s form. “You sure you’re all right? It ain’t like you to hang back like you have been.”

 

Aloth is lost for words for a moment; he had not considered that anyone might be keeping tabs on him. Then he drops his tightened shoulders and forces a polite smile. “I confess that I have been dawdling,” he says smoothly. “Our surroundings are unusual enough to have drawn my attention. This countryside is quite lovely, don’t you think?”

 

Edér frowns at his words. “You sure that’s all it is?” he asks, with a pointed jab of his pipe towards Aloth’s head. “Only you took quite a blow to the head earlier.”

 

Aloth sighs, and one hand flies to rub instinctively over his forehead. Edér is quite right. Their group had been descended upon some hours earlier, with bandits pouring out of the countryside to surround them. They managed to infiltrate their group, separating each of them, and Aloth had, unbeknownst to him, been surrounded. He had battled as tenaciously as ever, until the sharp slice of a blade against his thigh from behind dropped him to his knees with a cry.

 

***

 

Aloth’s breaths are coming in short, panicked bursts. It feels as though the back of his leg is on fire, a burning heat piercing his thigh and crackling along his nerves. He instinctively tries to scramble back to his feet but his thigh gives way immediately, and he wails with the sickening jolt that hits him as he slumps back in place, gritting his teeth against an agonising pulse of pain.

 

He flings a spell blindly back behind him, not even aware of what he’s trying to cast through the suffocating fog of pain, and only has time to hope it hits before a pair of boots enter his field of vision. He lifts his eyes to try to focus on whoever has approached, hoping against hope for a familiar face before him, and only has time to tighten his fingers on his wand before the edge of a rusted metal shield clangs with tremendous speed against his face.

 

He flies back in a spray of blood, limbs sprawling as though his strings have been cut, and only has moments to see Edér sprinting furiously beside him, and the surprised expression on the newly decapitated head of his assailer, before his vision abruptly fades to black.

 

Aloth is not entirely certain what happens next.

 

He seems to close his eyes only for a fraction of a second, barely more than a long, shuttered blink, but by the time his eyes open again, Edér is wiping his blade clean against the leather breastplate of a bandit who certainly had an arm attached when Aloth was last aware of him. Aloth squints fuzzily up at Edér, privately marvelling at his form for the thousandth time as sheathes his blade and he rolls his broad shoulders with a groan, but when Edér holds a hand out to Aloth he merely does his best to focus on it. Edér grins at him, which is always a welcome sight, but then his lips move soundlessly at Aloth and ruin the effect. Edér watches him for a moment longer as Aloth’s gaze moves between his face and his offered hand, trying desperately to figure out what Edér wants from him past the cacophonous ringing in his skull. His thoughts feel few and far between, with nothing to link them; the sun is horribly bright above him, his leg is throbbing, Edér is frowning at him.

 

Edér looks off to the side, his lips moving with an urgency Aloth cannot find the energy to replicate in himself. He settles for slumping back in the grass and is distantly pleased to find that the agonised pulse of pain through his battered body is slowly dwindling, though when he tries to move his hand to probe curiously at his thigh, his fingers fail to respond. Some indistinct voice at corner of consciousness seems to be trying to raise a racket, but Aloth can barely hear the frantic words past the buzzing in his brain, and it is so much easier merely to stare at Edér and watch the lines of his face crease as he continues to soundlessly holler at Aloth.

 

The image wavers horribly as he feels an abrupt stinging to his eyes, and they screw up in response. He drifts for a moment, then becomes aware of a presence either side of him, then feels two sensations at once; that of a cloth wiping carefully over his eyes, and the firm grip of a hand at his shoulder. A second later a warmth suffuses his body, spreading out from the hand in pulses of soothing heat which cuts through the blankness saturating his body. The caterwauling in his skull retreats with the tingling heat of healing magic, allowing his senses to flood back to him in one dizzying rush.

 

“ – ain’t enough, can’t you try again?” he hears Edér all but demand at one side of him, and his voice is shaking with… something. Rage? Misery? Aloth cannot truly decipher the emotion as his mind fights to process the sensations around him while Iselmyr batters against the blanket of emptiness that threatened to overcome his consciousness, forcing him to rally against it.

 

“I may be N’gati’s gift, but even so, I have only so much at my disposal,” Tekēhu says from his other side, and while his voice may have been just as prideful as ever, Aloth hears genuine remorse beneath it. He stirs, and the cloth is withdrawn hurriedly from his eyes. He finds himself squinting up at the rest of the group gathered around him; Tekēhu and Edér lean closest, their eyes tracking over him as they assess his condition, whilst the Watcher and Maia crowd close behind them.

 

Aloth withdraws instinctively, curling into himself at the force of their attention upon him. He searches for something to say, any words at all, but Tekēhu beats him to it. “You see?” he declares grandly, and moves his hand from Aloth’s shoulder to rest at the bare curve of his throat, where his pulse jumps frantically beneath his warm, damp touch. “He lives yet!”

 

Aloth shrinks back from his touch instinctively as a flush abruptly spreads from his throat upwards. “I am quite fine, thank you!” he announces, his voice more tremulous and flustered than he would like, but the sound of it teases a chuckle from Edér, who wipes a hand tiredly over his face before waving something at Aloth.

 

“If I never see you lookin’ so damn blank again it’ll be too soon. You has us worried,” he chides lightly, and Aloth realises that his hand is clutching his handkerchief, and that it is almost entirely saturated with blood. Aloth tries once again to move his fingers, and is relieved when they run over his forehead at his command; they come away from his cool flesh slick with blood. Edér nods knowingly as Aloth focuses on them. “Yeah, you lost more’n I’d like, but the cut’s closed up now, at least. You sure you’re all right?”

 

His gaze is fixed on Aloth. All their gazes are, hot like a brand, and he balks at what he fancies is pity in their eyes. Senses honed long ago flare to life, and his heart kicks into overdrive as panic flashes through him. He is surrounded, vulnerable, weak, causing trouble; he is making himself into a target.

 

As she has done so often over the years, Iselmyr grasps control from him, and for the first time in awhile, he is glad of her intervention. She forces him upright, pushing past the crouched forms of Edér and Tekēhu, and waves a hand at the group even as his thigh flashes a protest. It does not feel even half as bad as it had, thanks to the magic of Tekēhu, but the sting along his nerves makes Aloth certain that it is not entirely healed.

 

“‘Tis nothing,” Iselmyr says dismissively, wearing a grin as she weathers the throbbing of his wound without a flicker to her smile. “Aye, there’s nowt like a braw fight to get the blood pumpin’!”

 

Maia and Tekēhu wear expressions of open surprise, but Edér and the Watcher relax. “You’re sure?” The Watcher asks, but her eyes are already glancing towards the trail ahead of them.

 

“If he... if they are not, there is little I can offer to remedy it,” Tekēhu says uncertainly, rising to his feet with delicate grace despite his size. “I have no healing left within my grasp at the moment, I fear.”

 

“We could make camp,” Edér says, watching Aloth closely. The bright blue of his eyes scan over him as Iselmyr shifts her weight curiously from foot to foot. Aloth’s thigh protests with a dull pulse of pain, but does not tremble beneath her.

 

“We could, if you need it,” offers the Watcher, turning her eyes from the trail. Maia meets her gaze.

 

“Our job is time sensitive,” she reminds them lightly. There is no judgement in her eyes as she looks towards Aloth, but both Iselmyr and Aloth recognise the truth in her words. “If we camp now, we may end up missing our chance.”

 

“I’m aware of that. But if Aloth needs to rest, then that’s what we’re doing,” the Watcher says, and her smile is full of warmth and reassurance. Still, internally, Aloth cringes. Was he to be the reason for their failure? Could he really let some pain jeopardise their mission? How could he face their pity, their mockery, at his weakness?

 

Iselmyr and Aloth are, for once, of the same mind. “Sure, I’m as healthy as an ox,” Iselmyr says dismissively. Aloth may have stumbled at the lance of pain that shot through his thigh as she strode onward, but Iselmyr keeps her spine straight and her step steady as she walks him along the trail.

 

***

 

It had been enough to get everyone to drop the subject, at least. Iselmyr had retreated when everyone else naturally passed Aloth on the trail, and he had taken control of his mind once more, doing his best to breathe through the stabs of dull pain as he walked. His progress was slower than the rest of the group as the wound in his leg felt steadily more and more painful but, thanks more to his pride than anything else, he managed to keep up.

 

But now here they stand at the base of a mountain, the path leading upwards in a tangle of loose rocks and exposed tree roots, cross-crossing over the trail and just ready to snag somebody by the ankle. Further up, once the wild snarl of forest thins out, unforgiving rocks jut from the stone, and Aloth’s stomach sinks as he becomes aware that a climb will be necessary should he make it unscathed through the woodland hike ahead of him.

 

He realises that Edér is staring at him, and that the silence has dragged out between them for awhile. “I guess your brain’s still bouncin’ around in there, huh,” Edér says dryly, and Aloth sighs.

 

“Forgive me,” he says tightly, and his eyes strain to the rough forest trail ahead of them. “My mind was elsewhere. What did you say?”

 

“It don’t matter,” Edér says. He squares up beside Aloth, puffing on his pipe as he watches Maia leave to scout ahead. “I guess your head’s always at least a little messed up, huh? You don’t need it for walkin’, at least!” he declares, and punctuates his teasing with a shove to Aloth’s shoulder, designed to get him trotting forward.

 

Aloth, as ever, is quite unprepared to be touched. He pitches forward, startled, and yells as his leg, its injury only worsened after hours of walking, gives way beneath him. His breath is knocked from him as he sprawls into the dirt, the palms of his hands jarring as they break his fall, and the pain in his thigh flaring into brief, white-hot heat.

 

“Shit!” Edér is by his side in a second, amusement melting into regret as Aloth rolls onto his back with a whimper. He draws his leg up to clutch it close against him, his fingernails tightening in the cloth of his trousers as he attempts to breathe through the roar of pain thudding through him. “Aloth, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean - ”

 

“- you did not do this,” Aloth grates out. His eyes are screwed shut as he rides out the pain, and when it recedes to a dull throb, he opens them to find Edér staring guiltily at him. A quick look around finds the Watcher and Tekēhu similarly astonished.

 

“What happened?” the Watcher asks, her dagger drawn as she peers around. “Another ambush?”

 

“No, I... I pushed him,” Edér says, shame dripping from his tone. “Not that hard, I mean, or I didn’t think... Aloth ain’t as fragile as he seems, y’know, I didn’t think I’d do this!”

 

“You did not,” Aloth says again, doing his best to ignore Edér’s meagre assessment of his strength. He forces himself to sit upright, wincing as his thigh protests, and stubbornly ignores their stares. “My leg was injured, in the fight,” he admits, working to keep his voice steady as Edér’s brows draw together. “You could not have known.”

 

“Well, Hel, I could if you’d told us!” Edér retorts. He sighs as he watches Aloth struggle to get to his feet, and offers a hand down to him. Aloth takes it only when he realises that he is too worn out to drag himself upright. He huffs when Edér’s pull leaves him pressed against his chest, frowning at him despite the flush to his cheeks. He tries to scramble back, and nearly falls again when his leg once more gives out beneath him. The sudden support of Edér’s arm snaking around his back is all that keeps him from hitting the ground. “Will you stay still, dammit! Or do you aim to get hurt even worse than y’are! How much worse off are you for walkin’ miles on an injury?” Edér demands.

 

“My aim was not to slow us down!” Aloth retorts, heat steaming from his words. “Which is precisely what would have happened had I told you about this!”

 

“That doesn’t matter, Aloth,” the Watcher says softly, but he shakes his head to cut her off.

 

“We all know how important this quest is,” he says shortly. “Our work would have been for naught if we stopped merely due to some pain. It does not matter.”

 

“If that ain’t the stupidest - of course it matters,” Edér says with a scowl. He pokes Aloth in the chest, punctuating his words. “You matter, you damned fool. It’s worse now, ain’t it?”

 

“It is,” Aloth allows, but he gestures towards the mountain. “But here we are, all the same. It was my choice to make, and I made it. I do not need your pity.”

 

“As if a person among us was going to give you that!” Edér sighs. He drops his finger, but does not remove the supporting hand from Aloth’s back.

 

“If I may,” Tekēhu says smoothly, turning his eyes onto Aloth with an appraising air. “While your progress is admirable, I do not believe you should attempt to scale the mountain, ekera. To do so would be folly.”

 

“I agree,” Aloth says, seeing truth in the druid’s words for perhaps the first time. He offers an apologetic look to the Watcher, feeling a flare of panic at her response even after so much time in her company. He has let her down once again. “I believe I would be best served by making camp here and awaiting your return. I’m afraid I cannot help you beyond this point. I apologise.”

 

“You don’t need to apologise,” the Watcher says immediately, and her smile is a balm on his anxiety. “But will you be all right on your own? We don’t know when people might turn up after us.”

 

“He won’t be alone,” Edér says immediately. “I’ll stay with him.”

 

Aloth tries to turn in his hold, but Edér holds him tightly, so he has to settle for giving him an astonished sidelong look. “You do not need to do that,” he says. “I did not mean to ask you to!”

 

“Well, I sure meant to offer,” Edér says stubbornly. “The Watcher’s right, we don’t know when company might arrive.”

 

“I can remain hidden,” Aloth protests, indicating the undergrowth. “Edér, your kindness does you credit, but I do not need - ”

 

“- are you tellin’ me that if I let go now, you won’t go ass over teakettle and hit the floor?” Edér asks sharply. Aloth draws himself up even as his face flushes.

 

“I am hardly helpless!”

 

“And I ain’t sayin’ otherwise!” Edér retorts. “But I’m offerin’ help all the same! Please, Aloth,” he says, his tone softening to something closer to pleading into the silence that fell between them. “Let me take care of you, just for awhile. Ain’t nothing wrong with needing it.”

 

Aloth stares at him in open astonishment for a moment, held up by the strength in his broad arm as his leg throbs mercilessly, before his pride crumbles away. “If you wish,” he murmurs, swallowing as his voice cracks. “I... would appreciate your assistance.”

 

Edér cracks a slight smile, the corners of his mouth drawing back and a fondness to his crinkled eyes, but blessedly, does not comment as Aloth gives in. The Watcher nods firmly.

 

“Then it’s settled,” she says. “You two make camp here, and the rest of us will press on. The light should be with us long enough for us to make the summit, but I think we’ll have to camp up there for the night once we’ve finished with the job. We’ll meet you here tomorrow morning, as soon as it’s safe to descend. Does that sound all right?”

 

“Sure, that sounds fine,” Edér says. “We’ll be waiting here.”

 

They watch the pair head off, Edér holding Aloth steady, until they vanish from view. At that point, Edér walks him over to a boulder lying at the side of the road. “You should sit. If it won’t hurt too much, I mean?”

 

“I’ll do my very best to remain conscious,” Aloth says sourly, but Edér merely chuckles and guides him carefully down. His thigh does protest as he stretches out his leg, but he manages to stifle his huff of pain.

 

Edér busies himself by putting their camp together. There is a sheltered area in the forest at the base of the mountain, and by dragging some gorse over the snicket leading into it, Edér ensures they cannot be seen from the trail.

 

Aloth watches silently as he gathers sticks and stones and builds a fire pit. When Edér sits back on his heels and reaches for the tinderbox at his belt, Aloth extends a hand in a much-practiced gesture and sends a spark of flame flying into the pile. Edér smiles as it ignites, turning his eyes up to meet Aloth’s.

 

“Just like you said, huh. Not helpless at all.” He gets to his feet, and the look in his eye becomes something closer to contemplative. “So just how bad is that injury to your leg?”

 

Aloth hesitates before deciding to be honest. There is nothing further to be gained from hiding the truth. “I really do not know,” he admits. “I have not looked at it.”

 

Edér’s eyebrows quirk in surprise. “You took a sword to the thigh, and hours later you ain’t even looked at it? What, ain’t you even a little curious what state your leg’s in?”

 

“There wasn’t time,” Aloth reminds him, too tired to resort to defensiveness. “Besides, either Tekēhu will heal it when he returns tomorrow, or I will visit a priest when we reach town. It will heal, sooner or later. If I could make it this far, it cannot be so bad.”

 

“I dunno. Wounds are tricky. Sometimes they heal on their own, sure, but... If it’s bad enough that it won’t take your weight any more, it’s prob’ly not great,” Edér points out, walking closer. He looms over Aloth, hovering before him and shifting from foot to foot as he exudes an air of quiet concern. He fixes his eyes on Aloth, and nods once. “You should let me look at it,” he says decisively.

 

Aloth’s mouth falls open. He can already feel Iselmyr swirling gleefully around his mind, not trying to take control, merely revelling in his immediate anxiety. “Pardon?” he manages, hearing the crack in his voice and swallowing dryly.

 

Edér huffs a laugh, and the fondness in his voice as he speaks swirls through Aloth’s belly with a bittersweet warmth. “Now, there ain’t no reason to panic,” he says softly, as though he were trying to soothe a startled animal. “I know you ain’t one for... bein’ close to folk,” he says, visibly scrambling for a tactful way to phrase his thoughts, as though Aloth had made the choice to voluntarily isolate himself from people rather than it being a necessity. “But I know a little about how to dress wounds, and it’ll heal all the better for bein’ cleaned and covered properly.”

 

“You understand wound care?” Aloth manages to ask, his mind freewheeling and grasping onto tangential details as it circles frantically around the idea of Edér laying hands upon him.

 

Edér shrugs casually. “I don’t reckon you can be much of a soldier without learnin’ some field triage. And I did that much, if nothing else. What, you don’t believe me?” he asks with a short chuckle as Aloth remains silently petrified of what lies in his future. “There’s a few people still walkin’ around Gilded Vale who’d be years underground now if not for a bandage at the right time. I’m sure they’d vouch for me, if you went back to ask ‘em. Assumin’ nothing else has sent them to the Wheel between then and now.”

 

“I do not doubt your capabilities,” Aloth manages. Edér’s eyes drop meaningfully down to Aloth’s lap, and Aloth follows his gaze to see his hands twined tightly in his sash, his knuckles white with the pressure. He sighs and releases his hold abruptly, smoothing out the ruffled material of his sash with trembling fingers. “Truly, I do not,” he repeats, his voice quiet in the silence hanging over their camp. “I merely…” He can think of no way to end the sentence. Iselmyr has many suggestions, but he bites them all back with difficulty as she jeers. Edér watches patiently, his gaze unwavering as Aloth struggles against himself. There really is no logical reason to refuse Edér’s offer, and the idea of explaining just why Aloth is struggling with the mere idea of Edér examining him is abjectly humiliating. Edér would probably be reasonable in his response to Aloth’s ridiculous confession, but Aloth cannot face his rejection, no matter how careful Edér was with the fragments of his shattered heart.

 

“It won’t take long,” Edér urges, apparently having decided that this is Aloth’s issue. “And probably won’t be _too_ uncomfortable for you? I’ll be as gentle as I can. Look,” he adds as Aloth shoots him a troubled look, “if it helps, think of it as you doin’ me a favour. I won’t be able to sleep if you don’t let me see just how bad that wound is. I’ll be up all night worryin’ about what kinda state you’re in.”

 

“I am not a child in need of well-meaning untruths,” Aloth says sharply, but Edér meets his gaze without flinching.

 

“Who said it ain’t true?” he asks, his voice mild as he watches Aloth. Aloth watches him uncertainly for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of mockery, before sighing softly as his resistance drains away in the face of Edér’s placid stare.

 

“Fine,” he murmurs, his shoulders tightening as Iselmyr privately cackles in delight. “If it will soothe your mind.”

 

“It’ll do me no end of good,” laughs Edér, the corners of his eyes crinkling as Aloth gives in. “You’ll see, it’ll be fine. And quick as can be, too.” He fiddles at his throat, and unclasps his cloak to drape it over the ground, close to the fire. “We’ll make you as comfortable as we can get. You think you can lie down for me? Or do you need help?”

 

“I’m sure I can manage,” Aloth demurs, but it does not stop Edér from moving to his side and taking his arm as he levers himself to his feet. His breath catches as strong hands wrap around his elbow and forearm, supporting him effortlessly as he approaches the cloak. He hesitates before moving to lie down, and his voice is reedy when he tells Edér, “The, um, the wound is – is on my upper thigh.”

 

“You need a hand getting your trousers down?” Edér offers immediately, and Aloth chokes.

 

“No!” he protests, as his ears steadily turn red and Iselmyr battles hard to take control of his mouth. “That was not my meaning! I, I merely meant that I should like some privacy while I undress!”

 

“Well, sure, whatever you need,” Edér says amiably, as though he hasn’t given Aloth’s spiralling brain enough fodder to torture him with for years. He helps Aloth down to balance on his knees, then turns away once he’s certain he’s not about to keel over. “Let me know when you’re ready for me.”

 

Aloth knows from experience that lying in his armour is less than comfortable so, not wanting to make anything worse for himself, he unbuckles it and casts it to the side. He then steels himself with a deep breath, glances sidelong at Edér’s back, and unlaces his trousers with shaking fingers. He pushes the cloth hurriedly down his thighs, shivering in the cool air as he takes in his ridiculous situation – kneeling, with his trousers around his knees, in the open air of their camp where anyone who stumbled across them could see – and guides himself to lie on his front as gracefully as he can. His shirt, at least, just barely covers his backside when he fussily pulls it down as much as it will go. Unsure what to do with his hands, he tugs neurotically at his shirt, then decides to fold his arms beneath his head. “I believe I am as ready as I can be,” he offers tremulously to the falling dusk air.

 

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Edér calls, and Aloth watches him fiddle with his pack on the other side of the fire. He is true to his word; he drops to his knees close beside Aloth before too long, settling a couple of items alongside him. Aloth cranes his neck to see, and Edér chuckles softly. “Water, bandages, and a poultice,” he supplies, pointing at each as he reels them off. “It’s not enough to heal you, but hopefully it’ll keep the wound clean. Are you ready?” he asks, his voice radiating calm and patience as he looks steadily at Aloth for permission to act.

 

Aloth nods after a moment, turning his face away. “Do your worst,” he murmurs, hiding his face in his arms.

 

Edér whistles, not flirtatiously, but in something closer to admiration. “You took a pretty good hit, here,” he comments conversationally. “I’m not surprised it’s been chafin’ you.”

 

“Yes, well, I would have complimented the man that gave it to me on his artfulness, but when last I saw him, you’d taken his head off,” Aloth mumbles in return. “I’m not certain he’d appreciate it. Thank you for that, by the way,” he adds, suddenly emboldened by not having to face Edér head-on. “I saw you run towards me, before I fell. No doubt you saved my life.”

 

“You’re welcome,” Edér says easily. “Not that you ain’t done the same for me before today. I figure the two of us, we watch out for each other, right? We keep each other right.”

 

“Right,” Aloth says, more softly. These sentiments are surely something that will circle around his thoughts for some time to come. “I… I will certainly endeavour to – _shit_!” His words break off into a gasp of pain as Edér wipes over his wound with what feels like a wet cloth, and Aloth’s fingernails grip into his own forearms tightly.

 

“Careful, there,” murmurs Edér, and by the gods, he pats Aloth’s other thigh softly as he soothes him. Aloth stifles a gasp, muscles tensing beneath Edér’s hands as he works to clean the wound with long, slow strokes. “You just lie there, you don’t gotta do anything. Just let me take care of this for you, okay? I know it hurts, but it’s for the best, and it won’t take long. Are you all right for me to keep going?” he asks softly as he pauses in his work.

 

“I would prefer that you not prolong this,” Aloth manages, his teeth clenched, and he truly does not know whether he means the pain throbbing through his thigh, or the presence of Edér’s hand stroking his thigh.

 

“Hey, you’re doin’ so well,” Edér soothes, his voice dropping to a low, warm rumble which seems to curl around Aloth as physically as an embrace. He continues to stroke his thigh as he cleans the wound, contrasting the sharp swipes of pain with heat of another kind racing through him. “I can’t believe you walked on this all day. It’s pretty nasty. Whenever I get to thinkin’ you’re damn near made of glass, you go and prove me wrong.”

 

“I’m not sure if you’re trying to flatter me or not,” Aloth says hesitantly, uncertain of how to take his words.

 

“I’m not tryin’ nothing. Just thinking out loud,” Edér says comfortably. He pats Aloth playfully on his good thigh as he chuckles. “I’m sure you’d say that’s the only way I know how to think, huh?”

 

Silence drops between them as Aloth struggles to consider his response. Edér does not pause in his work, still carefully cleaning the slash in his thigh, merely waits for Aloth to speak. “Not at all,” he says eventually, his words quiet and muted. “I’m merely surprised you think of me at all.”

 

“You don’t know somebody for years and not think about ‘em,” Edér says without hesitation. His hands pause on Aloth, resting lightly on his thighs. “Or don’t you find that?”

 

“No, I… I do,” Aloth manages, before sighing into the privacy of his arms. “My problem does not lie with failing to think about people. Quite the opposite.”

 

“That big brain of yours has gotta occupy itself with somethin’ when you’re not busy, I guess,” Edér laughs. He whistles softly to himself as he continues to work, eventually pouring water over Aloth’s thigh and softly dabbing at it. “It’s cleaned up pretty good, and it don’t seem to be too deep,” he comments. “I don’t think I need to do any stitches.”

 

“A welcome mercy indeed,” Aloth says, wincing at the thought of this. “Not that I doubt your needlework skills.”

 

“Naw, you should,” Edér laughs. “I ain’t much for sewing. I reckon a poultice, and bandages to cover it should keep you right.”

 

“Whatever you think is necessary,” murmurs Aloth.

 

“Mmhmm. You just rest up and leave this to me,” Edér says cheerfully. “I’ll take care of every little thing for you.” Aloth sucks in a startled breath with these sentiments, his eyes squeezing shut as heat floods him ridiculously. He knows very well what Edér means, but his brain cannot help but take his words and twist them into something more. Perhaps it is Iselmyr, seeking out ways of taunting him further, but Aloth knows in the shameful depths of his soul that she is doing naught but watching his misery and cackling.

 

He lies perfectly still as Edér prepares his items, frozen in place as Edér hums to himself in the quiet of the camp, apparently unaware of Aloth’s growing agony. “Now, honestly, the painful part should be pretty much over with,” Edér offers helpfully as he hunches closer to Aloth again. “This stuff ain’t so much medicinal, but it’s soothing, and I’ll be as gentle as I can.”

 

“If you please,” Aloth murmurs. He has already spent more time than he’d care to admit thinking about Edér’s hands and their ability to be gentle is not something he had considered. Every inch of Edér is broad and strong; his hands, he has previously assumed, must be rough.

 

He was wrong.

 

Or, rather, he was right – they are coarse, calloused with years of wielding swords and farming equipment – but Edér is able to make use of them with surprising delicacy. One hand presses down on Aloth’s thigh beneath the wound, seemingly to keep him in place, as though Aloth has any ability to move left within him, while the other daubs the sticky poultice around the wound with a far gentler touch than Aloth had imagined possible from Edér. Each careful brush of his fingers spreads a soothing warmth through his skin, gathering and swirling and flooding shamefully to his cock. Aloth just barely manages to stifle a groan as he lies as still as possible beneath Edér’s ministrations, sending a prayer towards any and all gods in thankfulness that he was lying on his front for this treatment.

 

Further trials, however, await him, as Edér begins to speak. “Y’know, I really thought I’d have to be chasin’ you all over the camp to do this to you,” he offers, a grin behind his words as he laughs at his own image. “But look at you, lying nice and still for me. I know you don’t like stuff like this. Bein’ touched, and close to people, and all,” he murmurs, and god, there’s such fondness in his words that Aloth’s heart clenches. Edér has no idea what he’s doing to him, as he carefully fixes him up and takes him apart at the same time. “But you’re doing so well. Hey, I bet it ain’t as bad as you thought it’d be, huh?” he offers, as Aloth grits his teeth against the sensations pulsing to his stiffening cock.

 

Edér is right. It isn’t as bad as Aloth thought; it is worse.

 

“Quite,” he manages to force out, his voice weak. He feels as though his entire body is on fire, suffused in the heat of Edér’s words and the careful touch of his fingers as he treats Aloth as though he were something tender and delicate, and it takes all of his self-control not to rut his hips forward as he lies in place. Iselmyr’s amusement has now morphed into something sharper, less mocking and more cutting as she tries to demand he _do something_ to let Edér know just how he is affecting Aloth; he feels his arms stir, making to roll him onto his back and reveal the growing tent in his underclothes to Edér, so he tightens his fingernails into his own flesh and struggles for dominance.

 

Edér, thankfully, seems not to notice. “That should do it for the poultice,” he murmurs, half to himself. “It won’t be much longer now, then we can sleep. I don’t know about you, but I’m more tired’n hungry,” he says as he begins to wrap bandages around Aloth’s thigh.

 

“Yes, I… I need to rest,” Aloth agrees, panting as he beats Iselmyr back. Edér chucks his tongue worriedly.

 

“You do sound exhausted,” he says softly. “Sorry, this must be wearin’ at you. It’s done,” he says, leaning close over Aloth to examine his handiwork as he finishes tying off the bandage. “Does it feel okay? Do you need a hand up?”

 

“No, I – that is – it feels fine, and I believe I will remain as I am,” Aloth says in a flurry of panic. He wriggles in place as he hurriedly pulls his trousers over his backside, gasping at the pull on the wound, but Edér is right; it does feel better than it had. He does not bother trying to lace up his trousers, aware that this is asking for trouble, but he at least manages to tug his shirt over the bulge in his underwear. It offers little protection, but at least the feeling of exposure lessens somewhat. He squints up at Edér, hoping against hope that the flush in his cheeks will not be too obvious in the dimming light. “Thank you for this,” he offers, and he finds he really does mean it, despite everything. “It is… comforting, to know you would offer such care.”

 

“Any time you need it,” Edér responds without hesitation. His lips curl into a smile as he looks down at Aloth, and scoops up a blanket from his pack to land beside him. “Get comfy, I’ll be there in a second,” he announces, already packing his equipment away.

 

Aloth pauses as he spreads the blanket over himself. “Pardon?” he asks, curling hurriedly onto his side facing away from Edér as he hides beneath the blanket.

 

“Like I said, I gotta sleep soon,” Edér explains, straightening up from his pack. He stretches with a groan, joints popping and giving testimony to a day spent on a long, tiring march, before he flops down beside Aloth, who promptly swallows his own tongue. “I figure I’ll sleep beside you.”

 

“What?” Aloth’s eyebrows are practically lost among his hairline, so high do they rise with Edér’s casual declaration. “Why – why would you do that?”

 

“Well, I mean, think about it,” Edér says with a frown, as he shuffles closer to Aloth. Aloth hunches the blanket protectively over himself, peering over his shoulder in thinly-veiled panic at Edér. “We can’t keep somebody on watch when there’s just the two of us, so we should try and keep each other as safe as we can, plus… I want to keep an eye on you,” he admits. “I’ve done my best, but if that wound is infected, I need to know. If I’m here beside you, I can tell if you start to get a fever, or if sweatin’ sets in. Then I can get some help as soon as possible,” he says simply, meeting Aloth’s gaze with an honest worry.

 

Aloth swallows dryly. Try as he might, he cannot think of any flaws in Edér’s logic, even as panic spikes through him. “I, I’m sure this is not necessary,” he tries, but it does not stop Edér from shaking his head and curling up inches from his back.

 

“It’ll be over before you know it,” Edér says dismissively as he pulls the blanket over himself. “At least you know by know I ain’t gonna keep you up with snoring.”

 

 _”Mebbe not, but he could keep y’up with somethin’ else of his if you asked him tae,”_ Iselmyr says within the confines of Aloth’s head. He shakes his head irritably, as if the action will loosen her hold on his thoughts, but he merely hears her scoff incredulously. _“Ach, ye’re still fulla shite! You cannae tell me y’dinnae want ‘im. Look at you, y’prick hard as iron just from a few wee touches! Would y’rather spill your seed in your breeches than let him help you out? Or do you hope you’re just gonnae deflate despite him bein’ right there beside you?”_

 

Aloth’s teeth grit together as Iselmyr sneers at him. He does his best to push her away, flexing the mental muscles he has built up over the last fifty years or so, but to his horror she darts around his efforts with a smirk. _“Well, if you won’t help yourself,”_ she crows, as she pushes Aloth down into the recesses of his own mind, _“I’ll have to do the helpin’ for you!”_

 

Iselmyr’s eyes open, and she grins to herself. She flexes her fingers in the scratchy wool of the blanket, savouring the host of sensations flooding over her; the itch of the material to her fingertips, the pleasant flush suffusing her flesh as the heated stiffness throbs between her legs, and the closeness of Edér to her back. It takes no effort at all for her to roll onto her other side and lie face to face with Edér. His eyes open instinctively, and he offers a curious, bemused smile at the sight of her. “Y’all right?”

 

“Aye, I am, at that,” she says, and grins at the startled look that comes over him. “An’ so’s _he_. So much the better for your touch!”

 

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Edér offers, though there’s a doubt to his tone. “Did you want to thank me yourself? He already did that, I promise. He’s well-mannered, you know that.”

 

Iselmyr makes a dismissive noise. “ _Manners_. Them’s nowt t’brag about. Manners is what’s had him holdin’ his tongue about how much he wants you for these past years. Sure, an’ it’s his _manners_ that’s got him lyin’ here with his prick leakin’ an’ desperate for you to touch ‘im elsewhere wi’out sayin’ a damn word about it!”

 

Edér’s eyebrows rise in astonishment. “He’s – uh, what?” he asks, the sense seemingly knocked out of him, and Iselmyr beams with the effect of her words. She can hear Aloth somewhere in the back of her mind, trying desperately to gather himself, all but pleading with her to stop. She ploughs on, determined to have the truth spoken.

 

She lifts the blanket away from herself and reaches out to wrap thin fingers around Eder’s chin, forcing his head down to gaze along the length of her body. His eyes widen as she twitches the shirt aside, revealing the unmistakeable press of her hardened cock in her underclothes. She uses her free hand to cup her cock and moans theatrically, grinning when Edér turns his stunned eyes back to her. “Ooh, Edér,” she laughs, curling her fingers around his jaw. “Look what you’ve done tae me!”

 

“Iselmyr, I – you can’t…” Edér seems lost for words as she gazes at him, so she snorts impatiently and shuffles closer.

 

“Kiss me,” she demands, using the hand at his jaw to try to pull him closer. “C’mon, now, you’ve done more’n enough dancin’ around it by now. Kiss me, kiss _him_ , give ‘im what he’s wanted all this time!”

 

She leans in to kiss him, and finds herself halted with a strong hand on her chest. When she opens her eyes, Edér is giving her a look heated with simmering anger as he holds her in place away from him. “Stop that,” he growls with a shake of his head. “I know you like to poke fun at him, but this is too much. I ain’t gonna be part of this.”

 

“Ach, the two of you are as bad as each other,” she sneers, and grins triumphantly at him as she releases her hold and retreats…

 

…and Aloth stares at Edér in horror. “Forgive me!” he blurts, as his heart hammers in his ears and his stomach churns miserably. He scrambles away from Edér, cocooning himself in the blanket as best he can with Edér still lying beneath it. “I, I did not mean to – she overtook me, I had not intended you to know!”

 

“I guess she’ll always do what she thinks best,” Edér says softly, his eyes tracking over Aloth’s panicked face as though assessing what he sees. “Whether you want her to or not.”

 

“She lives to see me humiliated,” Aloth says, his tone scalding as she berates him about cowardice and pointless self-denial. He closes his eyes and sighs shakily, fingers twining tightly in the blanket. “Truly, I apologise, Edér. I had never intended…”

 

“For what?” Edér asks, his eyes narrowing to a calculating expression he has never seen on the farmer before. Aloth falls silent, and Edér breathes a heavy sigh as he props himself up on one elbow. “Seems like she thinks we’re overdue a talk.”

 

“Iselmyr often thinks I am lacking in something,” Aloth says through a scowl. He shoots Edér a pleading look, feeling barely an inch tall as he forces his words out. “If you please, I have no desire to… to shame myself further. You are, unfortunately, aware of my, my feelings, and I am aware that they are for naught, and surely that is quite enough. There can be nothing more to say.”

 

“Seems like you’re sayin’ more than your fair share,” Edér says easily, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. Aloth steels himself, his stomach sinking as he awaits an onslaught of mockery. “You’re sayin’ my side of the talkin’ as well as yours. Y’get so riled up when Iselmyr does it for you, are you so willin’ to do it to me?”

 

“As you say,” Aloth sighs, ducking his head. He curls up more tightly beneath the blanket, as though it will shield him from what is to come. “Please, speak your mind.”

 

Edér takes a moment, merely watching him, before he speaks. “Seems like maybe neither of us has been doin’ that,” he says mildly. “Speakin’ our minds, I mean. Or not completely, anyway. If you’d asked me before today if I thought you were the type to have any feelin’s like this, I’d have said no, not Aloth. He don’t like bein’ close to anyone – he’ll close himself off and back away and make sure he keeps to himself. And I get why you’d do it,” he adds conversationally, allowing a reassuring smile to part his lips as Aloth listens in growing astonishment. “You’ve been through the mill before now, and you want to keep yourself safe from people. I understand that, I really do. And I guess that’s what you want everybody to think, right? That you’re closed-off, and ain’t going to let anybody close. It stops people from tryin’, right?”

 

“You are not wrong,” Aloth murmurs, feeling his throat bob as he swallows. More than one person has laid him bare today, and he cannot help but feel as though a spotlight is shining on him. “Or it stops most people, at least.”

 

“It stopped me,” Edér says with a nod. He shrugs as Aloth makes a protesting noise, cutting him off before he can speak. “It stopped me getting as close as I’d like, leastways. We’re friends, sure, or I’d like to think we are, at least?”

 

“Of course,” Aloth says quickly. He gives Edér a pointed look. “Can you think of many others vying for the position?”

 

“You got friends,” Edér says with a fond chuckle. “You got a few, in fact, and even you can’t be so blind that you don’t see that. But I stopped tryin’ to get any closer than bein’ your friend, because I figured there was no way you’d ever want me the way I want you,” he finishes, and by now his eyes are smouldering as he watches Aloth closely.

 

Aloth stares in return, his own eyes wide. “You are humouring me,” he says defensively, but he truly cannot see any sign of mocking in Edér’s gaze.

 

“I wouldn’t,” he says softly in return. “Not about this. You want the honest truth from me?”

 

“Please,” Aloth finds himself all but whispering in return. Edér grins, and leans closer until his bristled lips brush against the soft shell of Aloth’s ear as he speaks.

“I’ve wanted you for the longest time now, and seeing you all laid out and hard for me after nothing but a few touches is the best damn sight I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, and laughs softly as Aloth shivers beneath him. He shifts slightly, pulling back just enough to be able to push Aloth’s hair back from his face with the same gentle touch he used on his thigh, and his face lights up as Aloth’s breath catches. “I want to be as close as you’ll let me be. I thought that meant just bein’ your friend, but if you want more, and I want more…”

 

“Please,” Aloth blurts again, for once listening as Iselmyr urges him along frantically. “Please, Edér, I want more.”

 

“What do you want?” Edér asks, his fingers stroking feather-light along the curve of his ear in a way which is maddeningly teasing. “I’ve heard it from Iselmyr, but if you’ll let me, I’d love to hear it from you.”

 

Aloth swallows tightly, but it takes a second for him to speak the words; for him to screw up his courage, and listen to Iselmyr’s crowing encouragement. “I want _you_. Kiss me,” he whispers, his eyes wide and hopeful and fixed on Edér. “Please, Edér?”

 

“Well, listen to that,” Edér murmurs in return, his eyes twinkling in the light of the fire as he smiles in delight. “It was even better than I thought it’d be.” And with that, he cups his hand around the sharp lines of Aloth’s jaw, and draws him into a kiss.

 

Iselmyr fades away to nothing, her glee the last thing to vanish. All Aloth can focus on is the scratch of Edér’s beard against his skin, the curled heat of his hand at his jaw, and the slow, steady slide of their lips as they meet and part. He is not sure how long they kiss – it could be minutes, or hours, or an eternity – but he is left gasping into the night air when Edér moves away from his lips to kiss his way down his throat. Before too long he shifts them both with a careless strength that leaves Aloth whining, casting aside the blanket to settle Aloth on his back with Edér’s legs bracket him as he kneels over him. He hovers above him, balancing on an elbow by his head, the hand of which he uses to stroke Aloth’s hair with that same delicate touch while the other pulls Aloth’s shirt aside to let him kiss his way across his collarbones, making sure to cover every inch of his pale skin.

 

The heat in his cock, damped down by their reluctant conversation, reignites in a shower of sparks which tingle in his belly, and Aloth finds himself pressing closer to Edér with a keening whine that leaves him chuckling. “Eager,” he laughs, but Aloth does not feel demeaned. Edér aims a meaningful glance down the length of his body beneath him, and Aloth nods breathlessly before he can ask anything. Edér frowns mildly. “You sure?” he asks, and Aloth groans as he scrambles to find words.

 

“I have never – I always thought I would never -” he begins, scrambling for sense as Edér scrapes his chin over the hollow of Aloth’s jaw and teases a gasp from him. It will leave a mark, he is certain, and the thought of having a reminder of Edér’s presence on his body is thrilling enough to make him shiver. Edér arches a curious eyebrow at him, and Aloth strives to finish his thought. “I never thought I could have anything like this, and now I _can_ , I do not wish to be delayed!” he pleads. “Please, Edér, do not make me wait?”

 

“You got such a pretty way with words,” Edér groans, and Aloth’s soul lifts with just how dishevelled he sounds. He watches wide-eyed as Edér fumbles with his own trousers, pulling his own firm cock free from his underclothes; his cheeks are flushed, but Aloth finds he cannot look away. Edér grins at his absorbed expression, and taps him pointedly on the hip. Aloth takes his meaning, and lifts his hips, ignoring the suddenly inconsequential jab of pain to his thigh, to let Edér slide a hand beneath his underclothes and draw out his cock. “You meant that?” he asks, startling Aloth’s attention back to his face. He gapes at him in return, and Edér chuckles. “You said you’d never…?”

 

“Oh. Never with anybody else,” Aloth admits, his voice thin and reedy. “Sometimes… Iselmyr has shown me…”

 

“Well, if that don’t sound beautiful,” Edér says in something close to awe. He bends close to kiss Aloth again hungrily. “Maybe one day, you’ll show _me_ what she showed _you_?”

 

“Soon,” Aloth nods, giddy with the thought of more of this; with more of Edér.

 

“But for now,” Edér murmurs, and wraps his hand around both cocks at once, his grasp firm and slick with his own precome. Aloth’s neck arches as he moans, suddenly overcome with sensation as Edér strokes the two of them together, watching his face with a rapt expression.

 

“Edér,” Aloth pants, feeling every muscle in his body tightening and trembling as Edér’s grip urges him towards the precipice. “Edér, I cannot - ”

 

“ – You don’t have to,” Edér chuckles, and Aloth half curses his composure, and admires his ability to laugh at so intimate a moment. “C’mon, sweetheart, come for me.”

 

“Sweetheart?” Aloth and Iselmyr both react to the endearment at once, and Aloth is not sure which one of them is more delighted by it. Aloth is helpless against the onrush of his climax, left taut and gasping beneath the welcome press of Edér as he spills over his companion’s hand. The seconds stretch out for a lifetime as Aloth pants, his mind freewheeling and his thoughts for once blessedly silenced.

 

He comes back to himself slowly, sprawling back beneath Edér as he watches him continue to stroke himself, his hand sticky with Aloth’s seed. Wanting to induce even a fraction of the same ecstasy in Edér, Aloth listens to a slyly whispered suggestion from Iselmyr; he drags two fingers lightly through the sticky mess on his stomach, and locks his eyes with Edér as he slides his fingers into his own mouth to suck them clean. Edér comes with a laboured groan, his hips jerking sharply as he spills onto Aloth’s stomach.

 

Aloth is, very briefly, struck with a sudden clear panic; what does one do now? Should he roll away to clean up? But he is saved any ongoing panic when Edér drapes himself over Aloth with a soft noise of contentment, pressing their bodies together and pressing a lazy kiss to the side of Aloth’s throat. “I won’t make you sleep like this,” he mumbles, teasing a final shiver from Aloth with the brush of his lips against his heated skin. “I already cleaned you up once today, and I’ll do it again. Just… give me a minute, okay?”

 

“Whatever you need,” Aloth murmurs in return, a smile toying at his lips as he settles a hesitant hand in Edér’s tangle of curls.

 

A minute? Aloth would happily give him a lifetime.


End file.
